I Love The Way You
by Starzangel
Summary: Pairing: JackAna Anamaria watches the man she loves. A romantic celebration of the littler things. Oneshot fic. COMPLETE


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Title: I Love The Way You…

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Author: Starzangel

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Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, none of _Pirates of the Caribbean_ is mine. I only borrowed the concept and characters to have fun (but gain no profit) writing this story, which _is_ mine.

And I _do_ own a copy of the DVD!!! Yay!!! At last!!! Woohoo!!!

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Archive: If you're not FanFiction.Net, then please ask first via submitting a review (leave your email address & I'll get back to you – and most probably say "Aye!").

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Author's Note: To warn you now, this one-shot fic is heavy on description and low on action. But hopefully you'll enjoy an intent look at Captain Jack Sparrow. However, if you're in a hyper mood for swashbuckling adventure, leave this fic for now and come back when you fancy something little and quieter.

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Pairing: Jack/Anamaria

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Pirates of the Caribbean:

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I Love The Way You…

by

Starzangel

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I love the way you do that,

I love the way you do this;

I love the way you do everything.

Anamaria lay with her head leaning on her arm, her long black hair cascading over her bare shoulders. Her eyes were bright with tenderness and her lips rested in a loving smile.

Across the cabin from her, Jack Sparrow sat at his black wooden desk, pouring over the maps spread out in front of him. He leant forward over the charts, locked deep in concentration. A pencil was held loosely in his right hand between his thumb and forefinger, and every so often he would use it to jot something down in the notebook under his hand. Anamaria could just make out the neat, slightly swirling script from where she reclined on the bed.

Jack looked up and met her gaze. His lips curved into an approving smile for a moment, then he turned back to his work.

Anamaria continued to silently watch as his lithe fingers traced possible routes over the oceans and he thoughtfully tapped the pencil tip against the paper. His nose screwed up against an itch and he rubbed it with the back of his left middle finger, his eyes remaining intent on the map. He pulled another chart out from underneath the haphazard arrangement and spread it out on top.

Sighing quietly, he tossed the pencil down and leant back in his chair. He began to absently twist the silver ring on his right forefinger. The large dark stone mounted in its centre flashed in and out of the sunlight from the window.

Anamaria affectionate eyes wandered over him to the regular rising and falling of his chest, exposed by his white shirt that hung loosely over him. He'd rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and so she could clearly see the blue tattoo depicting his name on the top of his right forearm. It consisted of a sparrow swooping in front of the sun set low over an ocean. She could also see the white P-shaped scar left by a brand courtesy of the East India Trading Company. That was a mark the pirate was careful to keep hidden when on land, so as to avoid an intimate meeting with a hangman's noose. Also revealed were the angry, red-edged scars that ran like forking rivers down the underside of his other arm. A horrific reminder of the harshness of reality and the falsity of the amazing tales that were passed from coast to coast. But Jack was free now, and Anamaria would do her absolute best to protect him from harm, as she knew he would her.

Suddenly, Jack grasped his sextant and bent over the maps again. His hands and the little metal instrument danced over the images of land and sea, measuring, considering and concluding. He then marked connected lines with the pencil and a ruler. Looking over what he'd drawn, he frowned with concentration and ran his thumb over his bearded chin and fiddled with the two little braids.

He stretched forward over the desk to pull a leather-bound book out from the bottom of a small pile and accidentally knocked a rolled up map off the table with his elbow. He reached down and picked it up from the floor, the trinkets in his hair jangling with his movements. Jack flipped the battered book open and flicked through until he found the yellowish page he wanted. Scanning the words written across it, he chewed gently on his dirty nails.

Anamaria's gaze slid downwards to his grey-blue breeches, a little spacious around his slim waist without the red and white striped sash he tied around him when fully dressed. Down further her eyes travelled to his slender bare calves and ankles crossed left over right underneath him with only his toes touching the deck. Up again her stare slowly swept to seek out the braids amongst his long, thick, dark hair.

Jack picked up his pencil once more and drew dashed lines on a map, labelling them with tiny letters. He then referred to the old book again, before circling certain points along the coastlines and ringing some islets. A final straight line with the ruler was the finishing mark.

Shutting the book, Jack yawned and rubbed his charcoal-lined eyes. He leant back and stretched his stiff arms above his head.

Anamaria reached over the side of the bed to pick her shirt up from the floor, and slipped it on as she untangled herself from the sheets and got up. She crossed the short distance to the back of Jack's chair and reached forward to massage his shoulders. His tense muscles relaxed beneath her familiar hands and he sighed gratefully.

Jack took hold of her wrists and gently pulled her around in front of him. She unresistingly sat on his lap and rested her arms around his neck. His lips brushed soft kisses down her neck and across her chest. He raised his head and her hand cupped his chin, bringing his mouth to hers.

Breaking apart, they looked into each other's dark-brown eyes.

"Ana…I love you," Jack whispered, his lopsided grin more tender than usual.

Never tiring of hearing it, Anamaria smiled and pulled him into a thanking kiss.

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~ Finis ~


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